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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29192928">Will you be my Robinson?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/xavier87/pseuds/xavier87'>xavier87</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The 100 (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Banter, Desert Island, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Inspired by Robinson Crusoe, Pregnant!Clarke, Sarcasm, philippines</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 03:54:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,359</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29192928</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/xavier87/pseuds/xavier87</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke, a promising graphic designer for a marketing agency, is sent to the Philippines with some coworkers to visit the new office there. Their trip ends with a few days of vacation on Palawan Island, the jewel of the Philippines, with its breathtaking beaches and snorkeling spots.<br/>When a typhoon comes out of nowhere, their yacht washes up on rocks and the blonde ends up stranded on a deserted island with the one person she can't stand, her workplace nemesis, Lexa.<br/>Will the two women learn to cooperate so they can survive long enough to be rescued? Or will they try to strangle each other before anyone can even notice they are missing?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clarke Griffin/Lexa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>256</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>298</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Ninoy Aquino International Airport. The temperature outside is 34 °C, and the local time is 2:25 PM. Please remain seated with your seatbelt fastened until the plane comes to a complete stop.”</p><p>Clarke lifted her arms above her head and stretched as best as she could without kicking the seat in front of her or hitting the overhead compartment. The flight from LA to Manila had been pleasant enough, but after 15 hours stuck in economy plus class and the effects of the time difference already settling in, she could feel exhaustion creeping up on her. Her marketing agency, Arkadia, had decided to open a new office in the Philippines to handle the tech side of things, and Jaha, the CEO, had sent a few managers and creatives to meet their future remote coworkers. They couldn’t afford business class for the 12 Americans, but as a thank you and apology gift, Jaha had booked a hotel for them for a few days on Palawan Island so they could unwind at the end of the trip.</p><p>Truth be told, Clarke would have rather stayed in Polis with her parents and friends, but the prospect of snorkeling in the translucent blue waters and lazing on the white sand beaches was enough to lift her spirit. She wished she could be traveling with her best friends, Octavia and Wells, but her coworkers were nice and she got along with all of them. <em>Well, almost all of them</em>, she thought, as a brunette stood from her seat, two rows diagonal of the blonde, to retrieve her bag as soon as the seatbelt sign was off. Of course, Lexa had to be the first up and ready.</p><p>Thankfully, all of them managed to go through immigration and retrieve their suitcases without a hitch, and they separated into three smaller groups to get into airport taxis. The trip to their hotel, located in BGC, the most modern part of the capital, was uneventful, and the traffic lulled Clarke into a slumber. Once the car had stopped, she grabbed her own bags and followed her coworkers into the hotel, not paying much attention to the neighborhood. She was looking forward to exploring the place and trying the Filipino food, but first, there was a bed somewhere with her name on it.</p><p>“We should all try to stay awake until tonight,” she heard Lexa say as they were getting the keys to their rooms, “it will make the jet lag more bearable.”</p><p>Rationally, she knew that the account manager was right, but she couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes at her bossiness. “Who put you in charge?” she almost asked before changing her mind. Her conflictual relationship with Lexa was no secret in Arkadia, but there was no need to antagonize the woman on their first day in a new country and ruin the trip for the rest of the group. She had promised herself she would be the bigger person and avoid the brunette as much as possible, and she stuck to it. Besides, she was way too tired to indulge in their usual arguments.</p><p>Clarke had been a graphic designer at Arkadia for two years already, and she was damn good at her job. Everybody knew that, and so did she. Jaha had even hinted that the position of creative lead would be hers by the end of the year if she could keep her track record. Her portfolio contained projects for several big companies, and the clients, no matter how demanding they could be, were usually pleased with her work. Despite the high expectations and long hours that she had to endure, she loved her job and the Polis-based agency. The fly in the ointment was the green-eyed brunette who had joined the company a few months before Clarke and made it her mission to ruin the blonde’s mood as often as humanly possible.</p><p>Not that Lexa was bad at her job. Objectively speaking, she was good. Heck, she was excellent, and dealing with clients was no easy feat. Between their ridiculous expectations and their inaptitude to answer simple questions or explain what they wanted in clear terms, it required great reserves of patience not to tell them to go float themselves sometimes. Clarke could still remember the last meeting she had had with a client who, when asked about the demographics of their target audience, had replied “youth to old” in a very serious tone. The blonde would have facepalmed if not for Marcus — the creative director — staring at her in warning, but Lexa had calmly explained what they meant by demographics and how having a clearer target would improve the reach of their campaign. Too bad the account manager could show the same human qualities when she was dealing with the staff of Arkadia, and particularly with Clarke. Practically since her first day at the agency, the brunette had been nothing but aloof to her, when she wasn’t purely and simply rude.</p><p>During her first week, the blonde had been intrigued and interested in the breathtaking woman with viridian eyes emphasized by a subtle stroke of eyeliner. With her tight suits and high heels, the brunette oozed self-confidence and sexiness, and the recently hired graphic designer might have been caught staring once or twice. But Lexa’s personality was sadly far from being as attractive as her physique, and even her patented resting bitch face lost some of its appeal after a month. And then, the two of them had rapidly found themselves arguing over the stupidest things, forcing Jaha and Marcus to intervene more than once and put them on separate projects. The two women were talented employees, and Arkadia didn’t want to lose their services, so small concessions had to be made and their offices were as far away from each other as physically possible. Unfortunately, both of them were needed in Manila, and Clarke had promised Marcus that she would be on her best behavior during the trip.</p><p>Therefore, she kept her mouth shut, grabbed her key, and made her way to the room assigned to her. Lexa could stay awake if she wanted to, Clarke was asleep less than two minutes later, still clothed, her suitcase abandoned in one corner of the single room. When she woke up three hours later, she felt refreshed and took a quick shower before changing and meeting her coworkers in the lobby to go get dinner. Their first Filipino meal was a big success, the savory dishes served with flavorful sauces and sweet desserts enchanting their palates. The blonde snickered when she noticed how everybody fell into a food coma state at the end of the dinner, even Lexa couldn’t hide her yawns anymore, and they hurried back to their hotel.</p><p>The following morning, however, the graphic designer had to apply a thick layer of concealer to hide the shadows under her eyes. She had fallen asleep easily enough, but had woken up at 3 AM and hadn’t managed to get any more rest after that. It was going to be a long day, but she would rather drink her own weight in coffee than admit Lexa had been right!</p><p>Their meetings with the Filipino team and the visit of the new office went seamlessly. Clarke had had some concerns about working with foreigners, not to mention the time difference between the east coast and the Philippines, but the staff seemed competent and made them feel at ease. With their communicative smiles and mastery of the English language, Arkadia seemed to be in good hands. After a few days spent mostly in the high building of Makati, another modern area of the capital, where the office was located, the Americans were ready for their holidays. The flight from Manila to Puerto Princesa was scheduled to last an hour, and the 12 people boarded the small plane with excitement.</p><p>“Mam, Sir, would you like something to drink?” the flight attendant asked Clarke as they were cruising over the ocean. “We have sodas, juice, beer…”</p><p>“Just an apple juice, thank you,” the blonde replied with a smile, trying her best to ignore the slight look of surprise on Lexa’s face on the other side of the aisle. <em>You drink a little too much once at a company party, and you get branded as an alcoholic</em>, she internally groaned as she retrieved her plastic glass from the ever-smiling Filipina.</p><p>Thankfully, the rest of the flight was uneventful, and the plane soon landed in Puerto Princesa, the capital of the island. The group excitedly retrieved its bags and made its way to the hotel, looking forward to the pool and the excursions offered by the hotel. Once again, Jaha had scrimped on expenses by renting double rooms for all of them, but at least the place was fairly new and located near the harbor. Clarke found herself sharing a room with Margaret, from accounting, and she couldn’t complain. The woman, well into her 40s, was chatty and a little obnoxious at times, but her heart was in the right place. Besides, anyone was better than Lexa, right?</p><p> </p><p>
  
</p><p>The first two days on Palawan Island were heavenly, and even the presence of her nemesis couldn’t stop Clarke from enjoying her vacation. Their excursion in the Subterranean River amazed the group, and the blonde itched to have her notepad and pencils with her so she could draw the paradisiacal scenery. She had to console herself by talking dozens of pictures she would use as a model once she was back in Polis. The second day, the Americans went on a small boat excursion around the city and stopped several times to snorkel and swim. The lunch, fresh fish and fruits prepared by the boat crew on a deserted island while they were all relaxing on the sand, was well-deserving of the foodgasm it elicited. The only negative point of that day was the sunburns now adorning the blonde’s back and shoulders; Lexa’s smug reminder that she had mentioned they should reapply sunblock regularly certainly didn’t help.</p><p> </p><p>
  
</p><p>On their third full day in Palawan, some members of the group decided to rent a small yacht and venture further away from Puerto Princesa in hopes of seeing dolphins and possibly fishing. Margaret decided to remain at the hotel and take advantage of the pool, as did six other Americans, and Clarke found herself climbing on the ship with Lexa and three other coworkers. She wasn’t particularly close to any of them, but the weather was beautiful and she was determined not to let anything ruin her fun. The four crew members spoke English enough to allow for a simple conversation, and she asked them several questions about their daily lives and families.</p><p>They had been traveling for around two hours when Clarke suddenly felt herself getting sick. She had never suffered from motion sickness, but the waves were growing stronger and higher. The yacht rolled over them with ease, but it didn’t stop her stomach from complaining at the treatment, and she barely had time to rush into one of the cabins before her lunch made an unwanted comeback. Busy as she was retching in the white porcelain toilet bowl, she didn’t hear the door open behind her and nearly jumped out of her skin when a soft voice laced with concern broke the silence.</p><p>“Clarke, are you sick?”</p><p>“No, I’m working on my walrus impersonation,” the blonde weakly replied, not daring to roll her eyes and risk another wave of dizziness.</p><p>“Well, clearly it can’t be that serious if your usual sarcasm is still intact,” the brunette huffed, regretting to have bothered checking up on her companion.</p><p>“I’m fine, Lexa. Just a little seasick. Don’t worry, you won’t get rid of me that easily,” the graphic designer said, though with less bite in her tone, as she wiped her mouth, flushed the toilet, and sat on her butt on the floor.</p><p>“I never thought it would be that simple,” the brunette shrugged, but the teasing glint in her eyes wasn’t missed by the blonde.</p><p>What they were both missing, however, were the dark clouds gathering above the ship, and the threatening winds that picked up with every minute passing, a consequence of the nearby typhoon that the weather forecast had failed to predict.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I need a break from my Assassin's Creed AU story, so here you are! A story mostly light and fun, with very little angst but a lot of sarcasm. Enjoy!</p><p>I lived in the Philippines for two years and was lucky enough to visit Palawan (though not Puerto Princesa) and some other islands. They are absolutely amazing, and I hope you will one day have the opportunity to go there too!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A bit more drama in this one for plot reasons</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Do you need anything? I have some meds in my bag, and there must be a first aid kit somewhere on this ship.”</p><p>“No, I already feel better. I guess I just needed to get it out of my system.”</p><p>Lexa stared at her for a moment, probably to assess the veracity of her statement, before nodding and opening the bathroom door. Before passing the threshold, she turned around to look at Clarke once more.</p><p>“If you change your mind, let me know. I’ll go back to the deck.”</p><p>“I won’t, but th—”</p><p>The graphic designer should have known better than to voice her gratitude after two years of bickering and contempt. As if the universe had heard her and decided that knocking the Earth off its axis would be a better idea than upsetting the dynamic of the two women, the ship suddenly jerked aside. The blonde, who was still sitting with her arms somewhat circling the toilet bowl managed to stay where she was, but Lexa wasn’t so lucky. As the floor found itself nearly perpendicular to where it had been a moment before, the brunette lost her balance and hit the door frame head first. No matter how hardheaded the account manager could be, the frame won, and Lexa fell onto the bathroom floor, unconscious.</p><p>The yacht, trapped in the middle of a raging storm that had taken the crew by surprise, was like a cockleshell on the high waves that crashed around it, relentless. It went up and down, right and left, with such violence that all Clarke could do was holding on for dear life onto the toilets with one hand as she tried to keep Lexa’s lifeless body from rolling away with the other. After what felt like hours but was probably closer to 20 minutes, the ship came to a brutal stop when it landed on rocks sticking out of the water. In the middle of the thunder and the howling winds, the cracking sound of the torn hull didn’t alert the blonde of the danger, but the water that began to rise from the lower part of the ship certainly did.</p><p>“Lexa, come on, wake up!” Clarke cried as she started to panic. “Please, please don’t be dead. Nobody will believe I was innocent if you are.”</p><p>The young woman stared at the water seeping from under the cabin’s door, willing it to stop. The Force wasn’t that strong in her family, apparently, because the dark blue liquid ignored her and continued to fill the cabin leading to the bathroom where they were with terrifying rapidity. The only good news was the current angle of the ship. As the cabin and stairs were lower than the toilets, it would take longer for them to be underwater than if it had landed flat on the rocks.</p><p>Now that they were immobile, Clarke dared to let go of her porcelain anchor, and she focused her efforts on reviving the brunette. Lexa sported a small cut and a bump the size of a hill on her forehead, but she was still breathing. Trying to ignore the half-open pouty lips — there was no excuse for CPR after all — the blonde debated whether to slap the woman awake. On the one hand, she had dreamed of doing so more times than she could count over the course of their two-year work relationship, and it was the perfect opportunity to do so. On the other hand, Lexa might already be suffering from a concussion, and hitting her head further could have unforeseen side effects. Not ready to risk turning the account manager into an even more insufferable person, Clarke went with the safest option. She gathered some water into her hands and threw it at Lexa’s face. It took three more attempts for her companion to open her eyes and start sputtering. The brunette immediately tried to sit down, and she groaned when the quick move made her head throb.</p><p>“Ow!” she said as she brought one hand to her forehead to massage the painful bump. “What the hell happened? Did you knock me out?”</p><p>“Seriously, that’s the first hypothesis that comes to your mind?” Clarke huffed, affronted that her efforts to protect Lexa from further injury were being ignored in favor of the slanderous accusation.</p><p>The 27-year-old stared back at her with her head tilt, the viridian eyes trying to stay as focused as they could despite the pain she had to be in as if to say, “Can you really blame me?” The blonde had to admit that, if she were in her shoes, or water-friendly sandals at the moment, she would probably think the same.</p><p>“No, Lexa, I didn’t knock you out. I was clutching the toilet bowl, remember? The ship caught a high wave or something and we lost gravity for a second. You went flying into the door frame. Actually, I’m surprised you didn’t break it, with that large forehead of yours.”</p><p>This time it was Lexa’s turn to huff her displeasure, but she seemed to believe the blonde and didn’t press the matter. Instead, she looked at the water that continued to rise in the cabin and paled. It was already reaching the middle of the cabin, submerging the bed and several cabinets, and soon it would enter the bathroom. Their situation was growing direr, and if they couldn’t find a way out soon, they would probably drown.</p><p>“We have to get out of here!”</p><p>“Thank you Captain Obvious, but how do you propose we do that? There are no openings in the bathroom, and the cabin porthole is too small for either of us,” Clarke pointed out. “The water has already invaded the stairway, and besides, we don’t know if it’s safer outside.”</p><p>“Clarke, we have to go. Even if we’re lucky and the water stops rising, we are going to suffocate. And we don’t know how long the ship will remain afloat. We have to find a way out and get onto the raft or something. It’s our only chance.”</p><p>The blonde bit her quivering lips, not wanting to cry in front of her nemesis, but it was becoming harder to hold the tears at bay. Why had she agreed to go on this stupid trip? Now she had to choose if she would rather suffocate or drown, and to add insult to injury, the last face she would probably ever see was Lexa’s. The artist in her knew that, objectively speaking, it was a gorgeous face to look at, much better than anyone else’s around, but still! What could she possibly have done in her past life to deserve such a fate? Maybe she should have kissed the brunette when she had the chance… Her thoughts were interrupted by Lexa clearing her throat, confused as to why Clarke was staring at her lips all of a sudden and slightly pink on the cheeks.</p><p>“Clarke? Did you hear anything I just said?”</p><p>“I can’t swim,” the blonde confessed, and she could have done without the surprise and pity on the account manager’s face. She knew that it wasn’t that common anymore for young people not to be able to maintain themselves above the water, and she loved going to the pool or ocean with her friends. But she always made sure to stay within her depth or to wear a life jacket, and few people were aware of her limitation. Her parents had tried to teach her and encouraged her to take lessons, but she had never been that interested as a child. And once puberty had hit and her breasts had developed a life of their own, the thought of wearing a swimsuit in front of other people had been a nightmare for years. She didn’t mind it anymore, having grown to appreciate the two floats she came with, but she had wasted precious time and now felt too self-conscious to join swimming lessons as an adult.</p><p>“OK, I’m a great swimmer. You’ll just have to hold onto me, and I’ll get us across the stairway.”</p><p>“Hmm, how about, no?” the blonde said as she rolled her eyes. “A minute ago, you assumed that I had knocked you out, and now you want me to put my life in your hands? I would rather stay here and wait for someone to rescue us, thank you very much. But please, feel free to leave the room and swim to wherever you want to. It will leave more oxygen for me.”</p><p>“Clarke… Every second we waste is precious. There is no guarantee that the ship will stay where it is. We probably landed on rocks, but a strong wave could drag it away again, and then, with the holes in the hull, we’ll sink. And who knows how long it will take for us to be rescued? We have to exit, and I can’t leave you behind. I will get you out, I promise.”</p><p>“Why do you even care?” Clarke asked, trying to ignore the petulance in her own voice. In truth, she couldn’t understand why the brunette insisted on helping her. They both knew that they hated each other. Why would Lexa willingly risk her own life and safety for her? True, the blonde had stopped her from hitting every corner of the room while the yacht was dancing on the waves, but it was hardly the same. She would like to think that she was a good person and wouldn’t abandon Lexa if the situation were reversed, but it’s not like the brunette was usually so keen on having her back, why would she now?</p><p>“I know we’re not friends, but I’m not going to let you die. Whatever you think of me, I do care, and I can help. Please, we have to leave. Can you trust me, just this once?”</p><p>Maybe Clarke had hit her head too without realizing it, or it was the concern in the green eyes — something she had never seen before, or at least not directed at her — but she relented and stood up. Both women approached the rising water with caution, their hips half-submerged by the time they reached the cabin door.</p><p>“OK, based on the angle, I would say that the corridor and at least half of the stairway are underwater. This means that, once we open this door, we’ll have to swim for 15 to 20 meters before we can reach the surface. All you have to do is climb on my back, hang on tight, and hold your breath, OK? I will use the railways to drag us, it will be faster.”</p><p>Before she could lose her nerves, the blonde nodded and jumped onto Lexa’s back, making her squeak in surprise. Clarke felt strong arms wrap around her thighs and move her to better distribute her weight, and she tightened her hold on the lean waist and the brunette’s neck.</p><p>“Clar— too tight … can’t breathe,” Lexa croaked out, and the 29-year-old eased her grip with an apology. She couldn’t afford to strangle her savior before they were safely out of the ship. Lexa cleared her throat twice and placed her hand on the doorknob.</p><p>What neither of them could know, of course, was that the rest of the passengers had already left the yacht and taken the only raft with them. After the ship had landed on the rocks, they had immediately noticed the water rising from the stairway, and assumed that the two women were dead, drowned in one of the cabins. Not wanting to be next, the four crew members and three Americans left jumped onto the dinghy and aimed for the land nearby. Sadly, their precipitation turned out to be their downfall. If they had waited for the storm to ease, they would have made it in no time. But as the waves were still raging when they left, the strong currents pulled them farther and farther away from the small island barely visible with the rain until the raft capsized, sending all its occupants into the unforgiving waters where they disappeared.      </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>With Clarke hanging on her back like a koala, Lexa turned the knob, pulled, and … nothing. The door, half-submerged in water, didn’t budge. With a huff, the account manager tried again, putting more strength into it, but the result was the same.</p><p>“Stop pushing, Lexa. You have to pull it!”</p><p>The brunette rolled her eyes at the blonde’s oh so helpful comment, but she managed to keep the snark in her voice to a reasonable level when she answered, “I am! It won’t move because of the water.”</p><p>“Do you need help?”</p><p>Lexa was perfectly capable of opening a damn door. Admittedly, the blonde gesticulating on her back wasn’t helping, and they should probably have waited for the way to be clear before Clarke jumped on her, but it was too late now. According to her family, the account manager could be slightly competitive and proud, and this was one of those times. Refusing to lose face in front of the bane of her existence at work, she huffed and grabbed the knob with renewed motivation. She gritted her teeth, shifted her weight on her feet, and pulled with all her might. When the door finally gave in, the water blocking it rushing to the side, the green-eyed woman would have released a glorious, “Ha, ha!” if she hadn’t lost her balance at the same time. With the extra weight, she couldn’t regain her footing, and both women fell backward, Lexa landing on Clarke.</p><p>“Oof! What the heck, Lexa?” the blonde groaned as she pushed the brunette to the side and massaged her bruised butt.</p><p>At least, thanks to the water still in the way, the door hadn’t closed back and they were now free to exit the room. Preferably before it was fully submerged. Lexa stood up with a half-smile meant to be apologetic and turned her back to Clarke so the graphic designer could climb back.</p><p>“I’m starting to doubt that this is a good idea. You’ve already managed to drop me once.”</p><p>Lexa bit her lips to stop herself from retorting something unpleasant, and to keep in the moan that threatened to escape when she felt the blonde’s soft boobs press against her back once more. Seriously, was Clarke setting them up for failure on purpose? Her head was still pounding, and the sudden rush of blood in her southern region could have very well made her faint. Luckily, she managed to stay upright this time, and resolutely moved forward.</p><p>By the time they had passed the cabin’s threshold, Lexa had water up to her waist, and Clarke’s grip had tightened so much she could barely inhale. As she had anticipated, most of the corridor was underwater, which meant the stairway was too, and they would have to hold their breath for a while. She could only hope that her companion would be able to do so because she was pretty sure that if she had to share some oxygen with her, she would end up with a bitten lip and they would both drown. Not that placing her mouth on Clarke’s was something she would ever consider. Ever. At least not when sober. During the daytime. When she wasn’t lying in bed… <em>Focus, Lexa!</em></p><p>The brunette kept moving until she had water up to her chin. It wasn’t as cold as she would have expected it to be, the advantage of being near the tropics. Good news, they wouldn’t die of hypothermia. Bad news, the water continued to enter the ship at a rapid pace, and if they didn’t escape soon, there was no telling if they would be able to anymore.</p><p>“Come on, take a deep breath, and hold it in. Don’t let go of me, and for the love of everything that is holy, don’t strangle me, please!”</p><p>And without giving either of them time to change their mind, Lexa stepped forward and their heads disappeared underwater. As she had expected, it isn’t easy to swim with a body wrapped around hers. Instead, she uses the railings on both sides of the corridor to pull herself as quickly as possible. They made it to the stairway in a dozen seconds, and the brunette wasted no time paddling toward the light.</p><p>When they emerged, both of them taking large gulps of air, they found themselves near the last step and the opening leading to the deck. With the ship inclined as it was, they had to crawl rather than stand, but they made it outside. The sky remained gray and threatening, but the storm had already lost some of its strength, and the waves weren’t as high as they had been only half an hour before. They were forced, however, to admit the terrible truth: the others had left without them, taking the only means of transportation.</p><p>Lexa did her best to look for them over the taffrail all while not losing her footing, but the dinghy was nowhere in sight. She hoped that they had made it safely to land, but for now, their priority was to leave the yacht before it sank or Clarke did something stupid, like going back to the cabin. Talking about the blonde, she seemed to have reached the same conclusion as Lexa regarding their comrades if the frown on her face was anything to go by. With her wet hair and clothes, she should have looked like a drowned rat, and it irked the brunette that she was still annoyingly pretty. Was there no justice left in the world? Lexa could only imagine what she looked like, with her messed-up braids and her running mascara that probably resembled a raccoon mask by now. Oh well, it wasn’t as if she had anyone to impress anyway. With Clarke, that ship had sailed a long time ago, pun intended.</p><p>Small silver lining, in their apparent precipitation to abandon the yacht, the other passengers had left a life vest behind. Lexa retrieved it with haste and offered it to the blonde without a second thought.</p><p>“How about you?”</p><p>“You’ll need it more than me. Don’t worry, as I said, I’m a great swimmer, the waves aren’t that bad anymore, and the island over there is not so far. Since it looks like we don’t have any other option than to swim ashore, you’ll just have to stay on your back, and I’ll pull you.”</p><p>Honestly, Lexa expected the graphic designer to be unreasonable about it. If their history was anything to go by, the blonde would argue against the brunette’s idea — because she had a different opinion, or simply because it was <em>Lexa</em>’s idea, depending on the day — try to find a short cut that would inevitably fail and cost them time, huff when she wouldn’t get her way, and finally settle on pouting like a child. To her surprise and pleasure, Clarke put on the jacket without a word, and approached the opening in the handrail, ready to jump in.</p><p>“What, no argument?” the account manager heard herself say before she grimaced. Antagonizing the older woman was not the best idea right now, but two years of conditioned behavior were not that easy to forget. Luckily for both of them, Clarke proved to be the more mature one for once.</p><p>“You know what you’re doing better than I do, so, no, no argument. I wouldn’t have made it out of the cabin without you, and I won’t be able to swim to the island on my own,” the blonde shrugged, before adding for good measure, because she too would need more time to get rid of the habit, “if you let me drown, I’ll come you back and haunt you till the end of your days!”</p><p>Lexa chuckled at the overly dramatic threat, and for the first time since the beginning of the trip, she felt grateful that Clarke was with her. As infuriating and unfair as the blonde could be, there was no denying that she kept the brunette on her toes and made her life more interesting. Not many people could compete with Lexa’s wits and — let’s call a cat a cat — level of bitchiness, but the 29-year-old was definitely up there.</p><p>“OK, let’s get rid of our shorts and jump in before the wind comes back.”</p><p>“Trying to get into my pants already, Lexa?”</p><p>And yes, the brunette should have seen it coming miles away, but in their situation, the comment still managed to take her by surprise and make her blush like the awkward teenage lesbian she once had been.</p><p>“Please,” she grunted with a very emphatic eye roll, “I have some standards. Who do you take me for?”</p><p>The rebuttal would maybe have worked better if Lexa’s green eyes hadn’t been clued to Clarke’s chest as she delivered it. Not that she could be blamed for the involuntary and perfectly natural ogling. The PFD was meant for a child, and the way it was tied right under the blonde’s boobs, pushing them up better than any Wonderbra could ever hope to do, should be illegal. The smirk on the graphic designer’s face let her know that she hadn’t been that discreet, making her small ears redden even more. At least, Clarke was graceful enough to let out a noncommittal sound and abstained from commenting on the obvious lie, and the two of them inched the edge of the ship.</p><p>Before they could second-guess themselves, the two women nodded at each other and jumped at the same time. As Lexa had expected, the water was rather warm and calmer than it had been, and her head emerged in no time. Thanks to the red jacket that reminded Lexa of the mascot of Jollibee, the local fast-food chain, Clarke’s higher half popped out of the water like a float. Before the blonde could drift away, the 27-year-old grabbed the back of the PFD and began to paddle and crawl with one arm. She could hear Clarke splutter every time the waves covered them, but to her credit, the woman did her best not to jerk around or complain. She even tried to paddle too to help Lexa, though it wasn’t making much of a difference.</p><p>They had to make a detour to avoid the rocks on which the yacht had landed, and once they had, the brunette made a beeline for the closest island. It was probably a few hundred meters away, and the journey took them an eternity, as she could only use one arm, but the current was gently pushing them closer. The cut on Lexa’s forehead stung now that it was dipped in salty water, and she could only hope that no shark was lurking around. On the other hand, if a fin suddenly appeared, she was pretty sure she would be able to beat the freestyle swimming world record and get them ashore in no time. After what felt like hours to Lexa’s tired muscles, but had probably taken about 40 minutes, the two women reached the beach and dragged themselves out of the water. Panting, the brunette let herself fall on the warm white sand, exhausted by the effort and the headache she had tried to ignore. She closed her eyes and considered taking a nap when some water landed on her face, making her groan.</p><p>“You might have a concussion, you should take it easy and try not to fall asleep,” the blonde said by way of an apology for throwing water at her, again.</p><p>“It’s a bit late for that,” Lexa pointed out with a raised eyebrow, and the blonde blushed slightly at the reminder that she had depended on her companion. “Since when are you a doctor anyway?”</p><p>“My mother is. She’s a surgeon and hoped I would follow in her footsteps. Obviously, that didn’t happen, but I still remember many of the things she taught me over the years.”</p><p>“See, things could always be worse,” Lexa smirked before adding when she noticed Clarke’s confused look, “I could have been trapped on an island with a version of you that knows how to use a scalpel.”</p><p>“You’re an ass!” the blonde exclaimed, throwing a fistful of wet sand at Lexa that signaled the resumption of hostilities. And maybe, maybe, Lexa had missed the not-so-friendly banter between them. That, she knew how to handle. Clarke looking at her in awe and with a sweet smile, that might be the death of her.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The two women spent a long time on the beach, recovering from their adventure and hoping that, magically, a ship would appear and bring them back to Manila. They didn’t talk, each of them lost in her own thoughts, and the uncomfortable stretched until Lexa stood and brushed the sand off her butt.</p><p>“We should explore our surroundings, look for fresh water and possibly food.”</p><p>“What are you talking about? We should stay here. What if a ship approaches while we are away playing Survivor?” Clarke scoffed, annoyed at the fact that the brunette was, once again, taking the lead. Neither of them dared to mention the dinghy and their companions. The island they had landed on was the only one visible from the stranded yacht. If the seven other people weren’t here yet, they were drifting away because of the currents. And that was the best-case scenario.</p><p>“Clarke, it could take days for us to be rescued. The authorities will have to notice that we didn’t come back, look for the yacht’s GPS signal, and send people here. We can’t just sit around, look pretty, and wait to be rescued.”</p><p>Anger flashed on Clarke’s face at the comment and the implications behind it. Her whole life, she had had to deal with people who assumed that because she was a woman, blonde, busty, and — false modesty aside — rather pretty, she couldn’t be the sharpest tool in the shed. It was annoying enough when it came from men, though she had learned to take advantage of it sometimes; it infuriated her when it came from other women.</p><p>“I didn’t mean—” Lexa tried to correct herself, having visibly realized how it had sounded to the blonde, but it was too late.</p><p>The graphic designer stood in the blink of an eye, her jaw set, and her eyes dark and threatening. She dug one of her heels into the sand and, moving backward, drew a line that went from the water to the edge of the grass.</p><p>“I know exactly what you meant,” she growled, and the brunette swallowed thickly, not daring to contradict her. Fuming, the blonde continued, pointing at where Lexa was and then at where she was, on the other side of the line. “So here is what we’re gonna do. This is your half of the island. Please feel free to go explore, or you know, fall off a cliff or something. This is my half, where I will stay and signal the next ship that passes by. If you’re lucky, I’ll let them know you’re here too before we leave.”</p><p>“Clarke…” Lexa tried again, though the not-so-discreet eye roll didn’t help her case, before she gave up and moved away from the divided beach. “Fine, I’ll have a look around then. You should stay in the shade; you’re already starting to look like a boiled lobster. We wouldn’t want to scare our future rescuers, right?”</p><p>The brunette had scooted off before Clarke could throw more sand at her, and the blonde remained alone on the sand, huffing and puffing with annoyance. Why did Lexa always have to be so insufferable? It was as if she couldn’t stand to behave like a normal human being for more than a few minutes before having to revert to her natural state of bitchiness. Although, despite the snarky comment, she kind of had a point. Clarke could feel her shoulders and arms grow redder by the minute, and if she didn’t find shelter from the direct sunlight, she would be in for some painful burns. She sat under the coconut trees that bordered the beach, on <em>her </em>side of the line, her eyes not leaving the horizon where she still hoped a ship would appear at any moment.</p><p>When Lexa returned two hours later, she found the graphic designer in the same position. Not a single ship, sail, or even a skiff had deigned to show itself, and the blonde looked even more depressed than before. The night would be setting soon, one of the inconveniences of the tropics, and they had to make camp.</p><p>“Do you think they will find us?” the 29-year-old suddenly asked in a small voice, interrupting the uncomfortable silence.</p><p>“Yes, I’m sure they will. People have to know by now that we are missing, they’ll probably start looking for us first thing in the morning. But for now, we need to get ready for the night. We don’t have any tools or sheets, so it’s going to be a bit rough. The good news is, I found a source of water not too far from here, let me show you.”</p><p>“OK, I’m parched. I did this,” the blonde replied, pointing at the large SOS sign she had created on the beach by placing leaves and branches together, “so hopefully even if we’re not around someone will see it.”</p><p>“Great idea!” Lexa approved before leading Clarke toward the small waterfall she had found earlier.</p><p>The brunette hadn’t had time to explore the whole island, but after climbing a tree, she had discovered that it was roughly shaped like a diamond and measured about 5 by 3 miles. The best part was the waterfall that sprang from a rocky mass and flowed into a pond of fresh water. If she had to guess, she would say that the island was located on top of a phreatic zone, which would certainly save their lives if it took them more than a couple of days to get rescued. The island was bordered by three long beaches; the one on which they had landed on the east side, one other one in the south, and a smaller one in the north. The center part was full of greenery, mainly grass, coconut and banana trees that offered easy-to-access food, and a cliff was occupying the west side.</p><p>Lexa had been relieved to spot some small animals, such as monkeys and goats, but no predators. With their lack of weapons, she would not give much for their chances if a panther was lurking around. Though well proportionated, Clarke didn’t seem to be the most athletic person around and Lexa would probably be able to outrun her and escape if need be. She wouldn’t, however, put it past the blonde to knock her out first and leave her as an offering while she ran away from said predator.</p><p>Once the two women had quenched their thirst thanks to the small waterfall, they began to look for a spot to spend the night, preferably not too far from the beach and the SOS sign. In the absence of natural caves they could hide in, they would have to spend the night out in the open, with the coconut trees for only protection.</p><p>“If only we had some tools,” Lexa sighed, “I could have cut some branches and made a rudimentary tent or something.”</p><p>“Well, if only you could pull out the giant stick you have in the ass, we would only have to tie some banana leaves on one side, and voila,” Clarke snarked, still upset about the brunette’s previous comment and general cold attitude over the previous two years.</p><p>Lexa looked affronted at the remark, and put some distance between them, mumbling something that sounded a lot like, “But then it would be my tent and I wouldn’t have to share it with you.”</p><p>In the end, they decided to sleep by the sand, under the trees, the sparse grass there making for a more comfortable and less itchy bed. Lexa even managed, despite the blonde’s obvious lack of faith, to light a small fire. It took her almost an hour, and she would have ended up broke if a swear jar had been around, but she did it. The small victory dance she improvised would have been less embarrassing if Clarke, just returning with some berries she had found around, hadn’t witnessed it and chuckled. To the account manager’s astonishment, rather than mocking the 27-year-old, the blonde simply put down the product of her search and began to dance like a madwoman too. Less than two minutes later, both of them were laughing so hard they had to hold their stomachs. And if some tears ran down their cheeks, they could always blame them on the laughs rather than on their situation.</p><p>They agreed that it would be more prudent to keep watch overnight and keep the fire alive, both to scare off the animals and to signal any ship that might pass by. As Lexa wasn’t feeling too tired yet, she offered to stay awake first, and the 29-year-old blonde nodded before curling on her right side and closing her eyes.</p><p>Despite the terrifying and exhausting day she had been through, Clarke didn’t think she would actually manage to sleep. The ground was uncomfortable, she missed her memory foam pillow, and the thought of spending the night on a deserted island was making her shudder. And yet, the next time she opened her eyes, a nightmare waking her up with a start, she noticed the sun rising over the horizon.</p><p>“It’s OK. You’re safe,” she heard, and as she turned her head, she noticed Lexa watching over her, her back against a tree, the fire still alive between them.</p><p>“You didn’t wake me.”</p><p>“I wasn’t sleepy,” the brunette shrugged, “and you were sleeping so soundly, it felt rude to interrupt your snoring.”</p><p>“I. Do. Not. Snore,” the blonde huffed, feeling very awake all of a sudden. The smirk on Lexa’s face showed how much she didn’t agree with the statement, but she wisely kept her mouth shut, not wanting to get into a fight before the sun was fully up.</p><p>After a rudimentary breakfast made of bananas and coconuts — an interesting challenge in the absence of a sharp blade, Clarke ended up crashing one against a sharp rock, losing the water inside but allowing them to eat the meat — Lexa’s eyelids were getting heavier by the minute, and the blonde finally took pity on her.</p><p>“Just lie down and sleep, Lexa. I’ll keep an eye around.”</p><p>“’m not tired,” the brunette murmured back, her head resting in the crook of her elbow.  </p><p>“Sure, you’re not,” the blonde whispered back, grateful that the younger woman had closed her eyes and couldn’t see the smile on her face. Regardless of how annoying and uptight the 27-year-old could be, she did have a cute side Clarke hadn’t been privy to until this adventure, and it made it hard to resist the mild attraction she felt for the green-eyed account manager. It wasn’t like she was blind, after all. She had always been aware that Lexa was beautiful, and the way she scrunched her nose in her sleep was certainly not helping. It was a shame that, at work, she chose to hide those softer aspects of her personality behind a mask of indifference. Remembering why this would be a bad idea and the reasons she had to dislike the sleeping brunette, Clarke stood silently and went to gather more berries for lunch.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Notes: Do not sleep under a coconut tree! The coconuts fall on occasions, and those damn things are so heavy and hard that they kill people every year.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After three days spent on the deserted island that was both their salvation and their prison, the two women were ready to murder each other. They were hungry, tired, sunburned, a recipe for disaster really. All that was missing was for one of them to start PMSing, and World War III would begin. Thanks to the water and fruits hanging around, they would not die of thirst or hunger, but the lack of proteins, shelter, and privacy was turning them into the worst version of themselves. Well, Lexa was more terrible than ever. According to herself, Clarke was only mildly whinier and more impatient than usual. And that was all the brunette’s fault anyway. The account manager was behaving like a drill sergeant, forcing them both to “keep a routine,” and “explore the island,” and “come on, Clarke, we need to gather more leaves to make comfortable beds,” and the blonde had dreamed at least twice of smothering her companion in her sleep.</p><p>As the older woman’s watch marked their 80<sup>th</sup> hour onshore, Lexa had to have felt some of the aggression coming off Clarke, because she suddenly decided to swim back to the yacht. The weather had remained mild after the typhoon that had nearly killed them both, and the ship hadn’t moved from the rocks it was stranded on, a few hundred meters away from the shore. The brunette figured that since no one had found them yet, it might take longer than expected for them to be rescued, and tools could greatly improve their time on the island.</p><p>This was how the 27-year-old found herself standing on the sandy beach that had landed on, shedding her clothes until she was wearing nothing more than a black bikini. Staring at her target, she remained oblivious to Clarke’s ogling, and the blonde managed to regain her composure before Lexa turned her head. The impressive sci-fi tattoo on the muscular back had been an unexpected discovery, and the graphic designer itched to follow its black lines with her finger — or her tongue. Not that it wasn’t a perfectly normal reaction. She was an artist, after all, trained to see and appreciate the beauty around her, not to mention that she was very gay. Well, bisexual, but still, very gay. And Lexa was, in all objectivity, a work of art.</p><p>“Are you sure about this?”</p><p>“Yes. We need the first aid kit, sheets or covers would be nice too, and there are probably some cans and tools around,” the younger woman stated, before adding with a smirk, “don’t worry, you won’t get rid of me that easily.”</p><p><em>As if I could be that lucky</em>, the blonde wanted to reply, and she would have if the stakes weren’t so high. Instead, she heard herself say, “Stay safe, OK? We both know that I can’t swim and rescue you if something happens.”</p><p>The green-eyed woman nodded with a soft smile and entered the water. It was as warm as she remembered, and much calmer than the last time she had been swimming. The ocean was so transparent that she could see far away, and the thought that no sharks seemed to be lurking around reassured her. Without the Clarke-shaped anchor that had slowed her down before, she made it to the yacht in record time and hauled herself onto the slanted deck.</p><p>The ship looked as she remembered it, a picture of tragedy and abandon. No trace remained of the crew and the other passengers upstairs, and Lexa wondered if they had taken anything with them when they left on the dinghy. Poking around, she found a couple of hunting knives, a machete, a flashlight, and some sheets that the Filipino men had probably used to sleep or to hide from the sun. She tied the corners of the sheet together to make a bundle of sorts and proceeded to the stairs.</p><p>The only door that wasn’t submerged led to a cabin in which Lexa discovered a small backpack with sunblock, a large T-shirt, and a plastic bottle that had belonged to one of her coworkers. After dropping her findings on the deck, she took a deep breath and went underwater. As expected, the pressure exerted by the water on the doors prevented her from opening them, and the only room she managed to enter was the one she and Clarke had first been in. Thanks to the air pocket still present, the water hadn’t risen much more than when they had left, and she could move around.</p><p>In the bathroom, she found a first-aid kit surprisingly well-stocked that she pocketed with a mental fist pump. The stomach and headache medicine, coupled with the various-sized Band-Aids, the disinfectant, and the small wrap of gaze were sure to be useful if their stay on the island turned out to be any lengthier. She couldn’t wait to see the look on Clarke’s face at the sight of the little treasure the brunette had assembled. Not that the blonde would ever admit that Lexa had been right, but it was nice to know nonetheless. Besides, she knew that her companion could be rather clumsy, and it was only a question of time before she injured herself.</p><p>Apart from the first-aid kit, the 27-year-old best finding was the toolbox hidden in the berth that she had noticed almost by accident. The sleeping area was half-submerged, and Lexa had nearly ignored it before changing her mind. In the red metallic box, she found several screwdrivers, a couple of hammers, a small saw, many screws and nails, and even a lighter. It was too heavy for her to carry it back to shore, but she carefully wrapped all the tools in the bundle she had made before lowering herself into the ocean once more.</p><p>The journey back to the island took her longer, her left hand carefully holding the precious cargo while her right arm did most of the work, and she was relieved when her feet finally reached the bottom. The blonde came to meet her, water up to her waist, and if Lexa didn’t know better, she would say that Clarke seemed almost happy to see her.</p><p>“Found anything interesting?”</p><p>“Yeah,” the brunette replied with a smile as her companion grabbed the wet sheet containing the things that would hopefully ease their stay and began inventory. As Lexa had expected, the blonde didn’t show much interest in the tools — not that Lexa agreed with the sexist idea that women couldn’t be as good as men when it came to manual labor, but the buxom artist didn’t look like she had ever held a hammer in her life — but she sighed in relief at the view of the first-aid kit and sunblock. <em>Lexa 1, Clarke 0</em>.</p><p>For the rest of the day, the two women took advantage of the tools to build a small shelter. Lexa cut some branches with the help of the saw while the graphic designer gathered as many banana leaves as she could to make the roof. The small hut they managed to make was far from perfect, and anything but straight, which considering who had built it kind of made sense, but it would protect them from the light showers that they had experienced almost every afternoon. The brunette hung one of the sheets at the entrance, effectively blocking some of the sunlight, while the others were placed over the mattress of grass they had assembled. If they had to stay any longer on the island, they would probably need to build a second shelter so they could have some privacy. That night, however, exhausted as they were, the two companions fell asleep curled against each other, drawing comfort from each other’s presence and light snores.</p><p>The following morning, once the awkwardness of waking up intertwined had passed, the two Americans ate a frugal breakfast consisting of bananas and berries before deciding what to do for the rest of the day. So far, they had only eaten the very ripe coconuts that had fallen by themselves, and the brunette had her eye on some better ones she had spotted the day before. After a lengthy argument, she convinced Clarke to climb on her shoulders and attempt to grab some of the fruits hanging from one of the lowest trees.</p><p>“Jeez,” the account manager huffed as the blonde’s feet dug into her shoulders, “we’ve been living off fruits for days. Do you have a secret stash of food somewhere?”</p><p>Offended at the unwarranted comment, Clarke very seriously considered dropping the coconut her fingers had wrapped around on the brunette’s thick head. She could always say that it had been an accident and bury her somewhere in the sand. Or she might even pretend that the 27-year-old had never made it to the island, and no one would be any the wiser. It was only the fact that Lexa was much more adept at using tools than she was that stopped her. Not to mention that she wasn’t sure she would be able to gracefully land on her feet if the other woman collapsed under her, and the prospect of waiting to be rescued with a broken leg was less than appealing.</p><p>“Maybe you’re just not as fit as you’d like to believe,” the blonde replied instead between gritted teeth as she extended her hand to reach another coconut.</p><p> </p><p>
  
</p><p>After several long minutes and more complaints from Lexa, the two women sat around a small collection of large green round-shaped fruits. The brunette wielded the machete with surprising efficiency, cutting a square opening into the coconuts like she had done it her whole life. At the back of her mind, Clarke decided she should probably make sure to hide the blade from Lexa at night. Who knew what the account manager might do to her with it if she suddenly decided that she had had enough of Clarke for one lifetime?</p><p>Her concern grew tenfold the following morning when she found the younger woman sharpening a long stick with one of the knives, whistling like a maniac. Lexa wouldn’t dare to impale her and roast her like a pig, would she? The image of the lechon they had eaten the day before the cruise came back to her mind and made her shudder. They had plenty of food available, surely it was too soon to resort to cannibalism, right? Her train of thought had to have somewhat transpired on her face because Lexa looked at her funny for a moment before explaining herself.</p><p>“I noticed some fish swimming close to the beach when I went to the yacht. I want to try catching them with this.”</p><p>“Oh, good. Good idea,” the blonde muttered, and she had to make a conscious effort not to roll her eyes at her own stupidity. Not that she could completely discard the idea of the brunette trying to get rid of her, but on an island filled with goats, why would cannibalism even come to mind? Damn Octavia and her bizarre love of scary movies. If she ever made it back to Polis, she would cancel her subscription to the Horror Channel!</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>lechon = a roasted pork dish served in Spain and the Philippines</p><p>And for my fellow non-tropical country inhabitants, coconuts are actually surrounded by a thick pale green husk. I was rather surprised the first time I saw them to learn that the brown shell I was used to is not the external layer.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sun was at its zenith, bathing the whole area surrounding the island in its warm and bright light. A refreshing salty breeze coming from the sea made the tropical tree leaves quiver in a slow arrhythmic dance of green and red. Some invisible birds were twittering and chirping in melodious harmonies as they looked for potential mates. The whole scene was idyllic, a true heaven on earth, and Clarke would appreciate it to the full if she was not hurling her guts out in a poor rendition of <em>The Exorcist</em>, sound effects included.</p><p>And yet, there she was, on her hands and knees, her head in a bush, trying to hide her lunch’s unwanted comeback. She had managed to hide her nausea from Lexa for over three weeks, but that day, Dame Fortune decided that she had had enough and abandoned her. As the blonde was finally done heaving and she wiped her mouth with a grimace, her companion approached with a concerned look.</p><p>“Clarke, are you OK? Were you sick? I told you the fish didn’t seem cooked enough.”</p><p>“Please let me die in peace,” the graphic designer, not wanting to get into yet another argument about what she should or shouldn’t do. She knew that Lexa meant well and that, in her own annoying and blunt way, she was trying to help, but one person could only hear “I told you so” so many times before they snapped and committed voluntary manslaughter.</p><p>“Do you need something? Like bananas to clean your palate? Or coconut water maybe?”</p><p>“Lex, I appreciate that you’re trying, but I’m fine. It’s nothing. Just let it go, OK?”</p><p>“But what if you’re sick? We don’t have a lot of medicine and—”  </p><p>“I’m pregnant.”</p><p>In any other circumstances, the way Lexa was staring at her, with her large green eyes bulged out of their sockets, her still perfectly plucked eyebrows — and just, how? After three weeks on an island without a mirror or an esthetician — bordering her hairline, and her jaw hanging would have made Clarke laugh. She hadn’t meant to spring the news on the brunette like that, but at least it had brought an end to her rambling.</p><p>“You—you’re pregnant?”</p><p>“Yeah. I found out just before this trip. So the good news is, I’m not sick, and the fish had nothing to do with it. The bad news is, I really hope we get rescued before you have to stare at my coochee while I push out this little alien without an epidural.”</p><p>Lexa’s throat bobbed and her cheeks and ears turned deep red at that, but she didn’t run away or pass out. She stayed thoughtful for a moment before clearing her voice and asking softly, “Is it Finn’s?”</p><p>This time it was Clarke’s turn to be surprised, and she made no effort to hide it. Finn had only accompanied her once to a work event, not long after she had joined Arkadia, and it wasn’t like she mentioned him every day in the office. Especially to Lexa, since most of their conversations had either been short or involved passive-aggressive comments. The fact that the account manager remembered her boyfriend’s — former boyfriend’s, she corrected herself — name almost two years later was unexpected, to say the least.</p><p>“It’s—yes, he is the father. Or I should say the genitor, I guess,” she replied with a grimace. “I told him the day I found out, and let’s just put it this way: he wasn’t particularly happy to be a dad soon.”</p><p>“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” the 27-year-old asked, and Clarke could have sworn the green eyes turned gray at the idea of Finn raising his hand against her. Surprisingly, the notion that Lexa would react with such strength to her being in danger or hurt warmed the blonde’s heart.</p><p>“No, no, nothing like that. But he had some harsh words. He said that he wasn’t ready to be tied up, that we had never discussed having children. Basically told me to get rid of it. In the end, he was the one I kicked to the curb, suitcases, hair products, and all.”</p><p>“I’m sorry to hear that. He should have never treated you like that,” the younger woman shook her head with more empathy than the blonde would have thought her capable of. “Did you decide to keep the baby then?”</p><p>“I—to be honest, I don’t know. I was supposed to think about it during our trip and make a decision once I got home. But now, I don’t exactly have a choice anymore, I guess? I mean, I’m happy about it, and I’ve always wanted children. It’s just that I didn’t think I would be a single mother.”</p><p>The brunette stayed quiet for a moment, her viridian eyes lost toward the horizon, and Clarke figured that the conversation had come to a natural end. This was why she was even more surprised when Lexa spoke to her once again and said something that she would have never expected to hear from her.</p><p>“You know, I hope you won’t have to give birth here, of course. But if that happens, you won’t be on your own. And even after, once the baby is born and all, I’ll be here to help you. You’re not alone, Clarke.”</p><p>If Octavia had said something so sweet, or even Bellamy, with whom she had a more complicated relationship, the blonde would have hugged them without a second thought. Her body moved as per reflex to lean closer to the younger woman, and it took her brain a second to realize what was happening and stop it. Despite what had happened between them since the typhoon and how the 27-year-old had genuinely been kind to her, she failed to reconcile this Lexa with the one she had worked with for 2 years.</p><p>“Lexa, please don’t take this the wrong way, but why are being so nice? You hate me, why would you offer to help me with my baby?”</p><p>“What do you mean?” the brunette asked, her confusion obvious in the frown of her eyebrows. “I know we haven’t always gotten along, but I don’t hate you.”</p><p>“That has to be the euphemism of the year,” the blonde chuckled, but her heart wasn’t in it. For the first time in a while, she remembered how it had hurt her to be on the receiving end of Lexa’s glares and cold shoulder when all she wanted was to get to know the other woman better. “You tried to have me fired!”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>To her credit, the green-eyed beauty reddened and looked away, embarrassed. Hadn’t she known that Clarke knew about her recommendation to Jaha to terminate her contract? It wasn’t exactly something she could have expected the blonde to forget. Either way, the graphic designer had her pride, and that stunt had stung more than she wanted to admit.</p><p>“The Wallace account, remember? I had an argument with the son, and you pulled me off the project. And to top it all, you went to Jaha behind my back and tried to have me fired!”</p><p>Lexa didn’t reply immediately. Instead, she bit her lips and shifted her weight from one foot to the other, thinking how to explain herself without starting the argument of the decade. In the end, she took a deep breath and turned to look directly into stormy blue eyes.</p><p>“I know that our relationship at work was far from friendly, and you’re not the only one to blame for that. But the account Wallace was essential to Arkadia, and spilling your coffee all over Cage Wallace almost cost us that client.”</p><p>“He kept hitting on me! Made annoying comments, always undressed me with his eyes, and wouldn’t take no for an answer! The guy is a prick.”</p><p>“I know, Clarke,” Lexa sighed, suddenly looking more tired than she had ever since the beginning of the trip as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “He also flirted with me, if you can call it flirting, several times, even after I made it clear that I’m a lesbian. After the incident, I talked to his father and made it clear that his behavior wasn’t acceptable and that we would have to terminate our agreement if he continued. But humiliating Cage directly wasn’t the right approach.”</p><p>“And replacing me with Maya was? I mean, come one, she’s alright, but her designs lack imagination or ambition. I could do the same when I was a junior.”</p><p>“She isn’t half as talented as you are, that’s true. But her more conservative approach suits Dante Wallace better. And Cage pays her little attention, so it’s a win-win.”</p><p>The compliment appeased some of Clarke’s anger, especially the way the brunette delivered it without trying, as if it was an absolute truth she didn’t question. Yet, she had carried that resentment for over a year, and it would take more to forgive Lexa for backstabbing her.</p><p>“Fine, I get why you had me replaced. But trying to have me fired, do you really think it was fair?”</p><p>Once more, the account manager stayed silent for a moment. Her ability to remain calm in all circumstances helped while in the middle of a catastrophe or on a deserted island, but it infuriated the blonde that she couldn’t get a rise out of her. She was about to repeat herself when Lexa answered.</p><p>“Arkadia was in financial trouble last year. Jaha made some bad decisions, and we lost a couple of big clients. The Wallace account was the only thing keeping us afloat at the time. Losing it would have meant, at best, retrenching a dozen employees. Possibly more. I was trying to prevent that by offering Cage your head, and Jaha refused. In the end, I managed to talk Dante down and keep the account as long as you weren’t involved in it anymore.”</p><p>“I didn’t know about that,” the 29-year-old admitted. The betrayal still hurt, of course, but it made a little more sense. Though she wasn’t close to all her coworkers, Clarke had spent enough time with some of them to have heard about their children, their mortgage, their parents’ health issues. Losing their job would have been devastating for most of them. If she had known about the situation, would she have offered to resign like the sacrificial lamb to save them all? Possibly. They would never find out since the brunette had taken the decision out of her hands.</p><p>“Replacing you with Maya was the right call, but I’m sorry for going behind your back,” Lexa added in a soft voice indicating that she hoped they wouldn’t fight about it anymore. “I should have tried to talk to Wallace first instead of going to Jaha, that was shitty of me. I understand why you would have a hard time trusting me, but I’m not your enemy, Clarke. Especially not here, when it’s just the two of us trying to survive.”</p><p>“Who would have thought that all it would take for us to bury the hatchet was to find ourselves stranded on a deserted island for weeks, uh?”</p><p>“So, friends?” the brunette offered with her characteristic half-smirk that made Clarke either want to throttle her or wipe it off her face with her own mouth. There were no half measures as far as Lexa was concerned, and maybe that had been part of the problem from the very first day.</p><p>“Oh, Woods! Calm yourself! For now, you are off my enemy list. Save my life a couple more times, and we can talk about being friends.”</p><p>The blonde did her best to keep a straight face as she delivered her remonstrance, but she had to have failed because the brunette chuckled in response. When she answered with a solemn face, “You drive a hard bargain, but I accept,” Clarke made a show of rolling her eyes.</p><p>“Thanks for saving my life, by the way. I don’t think I have said it in so many words yet. I would never have made it without you.”</p><p>“You are very welcome,” Lexa practically whispered back, and this time her smirk was replaced by a small but tender smile that Clarke had never seen on her. Maybe that was a good thing because she wouldn’t have known what to make of the butterflies that erupted in her stomach at the sight. Not that she knew better now. But at least, she could blame them on the life growing inside her belly.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So, though most reactions to the last chapter were positive, a few people were unhappy that Clarke is pregnant and also that I failed to tag it. To be clear, I hadn't done so because:<br/>1) I like plot twists, if you've read some of my other fics you might have noticed<br/>2) most importantly, it's only a sub-plot in this fic<br/>3) I honestly didn't think it would matter, should have known better...</p><p>I chose to take the story down that path because I like to challenge myself by adding something new to each fic I write, and Clarke pregnant at the beginning of the Clexa relationship is something I hadn't done so far and which fits this story. I understand that it's a plotline often used and that some people are not interested in it.<br/>That been said, I would like to think that I've managed so far to write original and unusual stories and I intend to continue to do so. The main point of this one is the enemies to lovers relationship and the banter, and that will continue. This will not be another pregnancy fic where Clarke is hormonal and rages at a meek Lexa.</p><p>Since I was pretty inspired, here is another chapter, sooner than usual. I hope you'll enjoy it and continue to trust me to make you laugh (and occasionally inform you), baby on the way or not 😉</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The following couple of weeks saw an uncertain but tentative friendship grow between the two survivors. With the main reason for the enmity between them out of the way, they attempted to navigate their new parameters without resorting to their usual passive-aggressive retorts. They split the tasks based on their respective strengths and weaknesses which allowed them some time alone. Lexa was in charge of climbing the coconut trees and fishing — she harpooned those fish with the efficiency of a medieval warrior, not that Clarke had noticed or was that impressed — while the 29-year-old gathered berries, bananas included, and cooked their meals. The lack of kitchenware, utensils, and condiments made for some interesting challenges, but she was rather proud of some of the dishes she had concocted.</p><p>Admittedly, the truce between them was a work in progress, and they both had to take breathers on occasion to avoid drowning the other in the ocean. Or more exactly, Lexa considered drowning the blonde in the sea when she forgot for the nth time to put out the fire after they were done cooking and it almost started a wildfire on their tiny and woody paradise. Clarke was much warier of the unfriendly water and, since the brunette was a far better swimmer, she stood little chance of winning that fight. But when the account manager asked her for what had to be the 10<sup>th</sup> time in the 3-hour trek that they took around the island if she was sure she had remembered to put their meager possessions in the hut so they wouldn’t get wet from the rain, she seriously considered pushing the green-eyed woman off the cliff.</p><p>On the eve of their sixth weeksary on the island, after noticing how Clarke avoided the water, Lexa decided to do something for her and offered to teach her how to swim. It might come in handy since they were surrounded by the ocean, not to mention the pond at the center of the island, and she hoped it would cure her companion of her fear.</p><p>“I can’t, Lexa. I’m pregnant,” the blonde immediately replied, shutting down the suggestion as the brunette had expected her to. Good resolutions or not, some things never changed.</p><p>“And while this will be a valid excuse for you to stay off your feet in several months, you are completely fine now. Besides, lots of pregnant women love aqua aerobics. You will feel lighter in the water.”</p><p>“Are you calling me fat again?!”</p><p><em>You’re perfect</em>, was Lexa’s initial thought, but something told her that the blonde might not appreciate or believe the comment. Instead, as often, she opted for a more pragmatic approach.</p><p>“Of course not. I just meant that when you’ll be seven months pregnant and big as a whale, you might appreciate floating. I’d like to teach you before that,” the 27-year-old explained before tilting her head to avoid the calamansi thrown at her with surprising accuracy. Had Clarke been practicing in secret?</p><p>“I think I liked you more when we weren’t talking, Woods,” the blonde huffed, though a mischievous glint remained in her cerulean eyes. “Can I think about it?”</p><p>“Sure. I want to go back to the yacht tomorrow, we can talk about it when I come back if you want.”</p><p>“Are you sure it’s safe? Or worth it?”</p><p>“It has stayed on the rocks longer than I thought it would, but I’m worried that it will fully sink when the next storm hits. I just want to make sure that we got absolutely everything useful out of it before that. There are still some sheets, and if I can manage to enter the submerged cabins, there might be more clothes and supplies left. Since we are apparently going to stay here longer than expected, we might as well get comfortable.”</p><p>The older woman had no arguments against that logic, and the two companions settled in for the night. One of the numerous downsides of being away from the modern world was the lack of electricity. As soon as the sun was down, which happened early in tropical countries as they found out, they had nothing much to do apart from sleeping. It had taken them both a couple of weeks to get used to going to bed at 7 PM and waking up at 6 AM, and they had turned and huffed around for hours at first. After 6 weeks, though, their bodies had adjusted, and they fell asleep in no time, curled against each other to “stay warm” in case the temperature went below 25 °C.</p><p>The next morning, Lexa made one last trip to the yacht on which their adventure had started. The wreck hadn’t moved much since her last visit and remained perched on sharp rocks, the waves battering the torn open hull. More water had found its way inside, however, and it was with great difficulty that she entered the cabins she had neglected the first time. Based on the ominous sounds the ship was making every time a wave stronger than the others hit it, it wouldn’t be long before it was dislodged from its promontory and dragged into the ocean. This would be her last time inside, and she had to make the most out of it.</p><p>After 30 minutes of diving and digging around, the brunette looked at her small treasure amassed on the deck. She hadn’t managed to find any more tools, but the collection of sheets, towels, and clothes would make their life easier. She considered for a moment hiding the latter and waiting to see if Clarke would eventually walk around naked before she scolded herself. The lack of bras and bikini tops, though, wasn’t her fault, and she wondered how long it would take for Clarke’s to be so worn that she would have to forego it.</p><p><em>Bad Lexa</em>, she thought when blood rushed to her nether region at the mental image her horny mind conjured. The lack of sexual encounters was clearly getting to her. Ever since the breakup with her longtime girlfriend two years before, she had had little time to date and had only indulged in short-lived flirts and one-night stands. The last one dated back to two months before the trip and she missed having sex. That was the only possible explanation for her sudden obsession with seeing the blonde naked she told herself, even though the statement sounded like a lie to her ears. She would not allow her former attraction for the graphic designer to rekindle. She had made great efforts to get past it during the months that had followed her first meeting with the older woman, she couldn’t fall back into that trap.</p><p>Once she was sure that nothing useful was left on the yacht, she wrapped the items into one of the bedsheets and lowered herself into the warm water. The journey back took longer, the wet bundle weighing her down, and she felt relieved not to have to do it again. Not that she blamed Clarke for her lack of swimming skills, but things would have been easier if they could have gone together the first time, and she was even more convinced than ever that she had to teach her companion how to swim.</p><p>“Welcome back, Commander Cousteau! Did you find anything interesting?” the 29-year-old inquired as Lexa exited the ocean, her long chestnut hair dripping with salty water.</p><p>“Hm, some bedsheets and clothes mostly. Also, some goggles and flippers, which might come in handy for fishing and finding seafood. Come on,” she added after dropping her cargo on the sand, “time for your first lesson since I’m already wet.”</p><p>The brunette had not paid attention to the words that had come out of her mouth, and it was only when she noticed the blush Clarke was sporting that she realized the involuntary innuendo and coughed to hide her awkwardness. The blonde, probably not wanting to drag the uncomfortable situation any further, followed her without complaining, so Lexa counted it as a win.</p><p>“First, I’m going to teach you how to float,” the 27-year-old started once both women were submerged up to their waist. “That way, you will be able to stay in the water for long periods of time without getting tired or panicking.”</p><p>The blonde didn’t seem ecstatic at the prospect of spending any more time in the water than she absolutely had to, but she pinched her lips and nodded. Following Lexa’s instructions, she slowly got on her back, limbs outstretched, and let the salty liquid do the work while the brunette placed her hands below Clarke’s shoulder blades to secure her. From her position behind and above the graphic designer, Lexa suddenly realized that her plan comprised a grave flaw. Clarke was wearing a black bikini that did nothing to hide her nipples that — probably due to the water, though it was not cold — hardened visibly under the thin fabric. Too busy as she was trying not to ogle them like a concupiscent teenage boy, Lexa failed to notice the wave that came at them and washed over the blonde’s face.</p><p>“Lexa, what the hell?!” Clarke sputtered when she resurfaced, her face red and annoyed. “I thought you said you had this and wouldn’t let me drown! Shit, the water went inside my nose, it hurts like a bitch!”</p><p>There was no redeeming explanation for the account manager’s distraction, so in the end, she apologized and flashed her companion her most sheepish smile. It took some convincing, but the other woman eventually agreed to resume her lesson, although not before threatening to bodily harm the brunette if she let her go underwater again.</p><p>Once she was happy with Clarke’s progress and sure that the blonde could float on her back without help, Lexa suggested they stopped for the day. The artist seemed finally comfortable in the ocean, and she did not want to overdo it and spook her again. Besides, there was only so much temptation she could take, and it was becoming more and more difficult to avoid looking at the beautiful breasts protruding from the water. Not for the first time, the brunette was grateful not to have been born with a penis; otherwise, the situation would have been painfully awkward.</p><p>“So, what’s the plan tomorrow, Commander?” her companion asked, oblivious to her internal struggle. In her absent-minded state, it took the 27-year-old a few seconds to notice the new nicknamed, and she asked with a smirk, “Commander. Really?”</p><p>“It suits you,” the blonde shrugged in answer. “I could picture you in another life, leaning over old maps, planning attacks, and leading your troops into battles with a ferocious war cry.”</p><p>“I’ve been called worse,” the green-eyed woman chuckled, and Clarke bit her lips to stop the smile that threatened to pull at her lips. She sure had called Lexa far less PG things before, in her head and out loud, and though she knew that the brunette was certainly aware of it, there was no need to rehash the past. The 27-year-old had apologized more than once for her previous behavior and for antagonizing the blonde, the least Clarke could do was try to meet her halfway. Besides, if she was being honest with herself, the new nickname had a nice ring to it. As long as she would not get caught whispering it in her sleep that was. Not that she ever dreamed of the viridian-eyed goddess she — for lack of a better word — currently lived with. Ever.    </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>calamansi = a tiny lime native to the Philippines. Calamansi juice is rather sour but refreshing!<br/>For my American readers (we won't hold it against you too much): 25°C = 77°F</p><p>Random fact of the chapter: Bananas are botanically a berry. Who knew? </p><p>Jacques-Yves Cousteau was a French naval officer, explorer, conservationist, filmmaker, innovator, scientist, photographer, author, and researcher who studied the sea and all forms of life in water. Cousteau described his underwater world research in a series of books, perhaps the most successful being his first book, The Silent World: A Story of Undersea Discovery and Adventure, published in 1953. [Wikipedia]</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi guys! I apologize for the long wait.<br/>This fic is different from my other ones, and recently I had a hard time getting back into that particular playful state of mind. Reading it again put a smile on my face though, so I hope it does the same to you 😊</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>One afternoon, Lexa was walking back to their camp after collecting some water from the waterfall, whistling as she went. The rainy season was coming to an end, and she appreciated not having to worry about the random showers anymore. As she passed by the makeshift pen, she stopped to check the goats.</p><p>After 8 weeks on the island, both she and Clarke had grown tired of eating fish every day, and they had resorted to hunting the goats instead. Two hours later, an exhausted and muddy Lexa — she had tripped by the pond and fallen face-first into the brown goo — had admitted that she was not a big fan of running after the bovids all around the island. This was why she spent the next few days cutting long branches and building a run so they could keep them all in one place. Without a guardian dog to help them, gathering the animals and leading them into the small enclosure was no easy feat. Clarke giggling every time a goat escaped Lexa or the brunette cussed had not helped either. But after several long hours, the two women had managed to trap a decent-sized group that had luckily not made a run for it since.</p><p>The brunette had to admit that she was not a big fan of killing her own food and missed the time she could simply buy it wrapped and neat from the supermarket. Harpooning and cleaning the fish was fine, and she did it without too much disgust. But there was something a lot more personal about an animal that bled as red as humans did. Both women liked their meat, and without many options in the vegetable department, they could not be too picky about the proteins they ate. Not to mention all the ways they could use their pelts: as a softer mattress, as clothes once theirs would be worn out, as containers… Still, the account manager promised herself that if — when — they would make it out of their paradisiac prison, she would consider going vegetarian.</p><p>Once she was certain that the goats were doing well and that none of them had escaped, Lexa continued her journey east toward the hut. She broke into a smile at the sight of her companion, looking at the sea and oblivious to her return. The brunette was taking the time to admire Clarke, thanking the gods once more for not letting her go on the dinghy with the rest of the passengers. The 27-year-old knew that she was strong and would fight to survive no matter what, but the idea of being alone on the island was a recurring theme in her nightmares even after 3 months together. However, once she was close enough, the small furry creature that she noticed on the pale shoulder made her frown.</p><p>“Clarke? Are you aware that you have a tiny monkey on your shoulder?”</p><p>“I see that you’re still as astute as ever, what a relief!” the blonde mocked, and it took the brunette a superhuman effort not to roll her eyes or huff in frustration. Her relationship with the older woman might have considerably improved since their talk, some patterns remained hard to break.</p><p>“Let me rephrase that, why do you have a monkey on your shoulder?”</p><p>“I found him this morning, all alone at the bottom of a tree. His mother must have rejected him or something. Look,” the 29-year-old replied, cooing over the young macaque, “he is so cute. I couldn’t just leave him to die. And besides, it will be good practice for when the baby comes.”</p><p>“It’s a monkey, Clarke,” Lexa deadpanned. “I don’t think you’re supposed to wrap him in a diaper and burp him.”</p><p> </p><p>
  
</p><p> </p><p>That clearly was the wrong thing to say, as the graphic designer bit her lips to try to rein in her emotions. She lost the battle though, and fat tears began to roll down her cheeks as she cradled the tiny animal closer to her chest. Soon, the blonde was sobbing uncontrollably, and Lexa wondered what she could do or say to appease her. Clarke’s morning sickness had eased and then stopped when her first trimester ended. Unfortunately, the heaving had been replaced by intense mood swings that were difficult to anticipate. Selfishly, Lexa almost regretted the former. Sound effects aside, it was a lot less complicated to deal with.</p><p>“I was an only child, no younger cousins or neighbors to babysit. I don’t know the first thing about children,” the artist explained with a broken voice and sad eyes that stirred something in the brunette’s belly. Like a barely suppressible need to hold the blonde in her arms and protect her from harm. “What if I’m a horrible mother? What if I mess it up and they hate me? What if they blame me for going on this stupid trip while pregnant and giving birth on a freaking island? What if I don’t watch them and they get kidnapped by a monkey?”</p><p>“OK, now you’re just being ridiculous,” Lexa chuckled despite herself. Seeing that the other woman was not finding it funny, she continued with a soft and reassuring voice. “Breathe, Clarke. Why would the monkeys kidnap your baby? And anyway, we’re on a relatively tiny island, it’s not like we wouldn’t be able to get them back.”</p><p>“I know, but still. I can’t stop worrying that I am going to fail. Raising a child is already hard enough at home and with a good support system, what am I supposed to do here?”</p><p>This time, the brunette lost her internal battle. She pulled the crying woman against her chest, flaxen hair tickling her nose, and placed a tender kiss on the sweaty forehead. It took a few minutes, but she eventually felt the 29-year-old’s breathing slow down and her shoulders stopped shaking. And yet, the blonde did not move backward. If anything, she wrapped her arms loosely around Lexa’s waist and pushed her face forward against the younger woman’s neck. The monkey, disturbed by the movements, jump onto the account manager’s shoulder and began playing with her hair.</p><p>“You have nothing to worry about, Clarke. Experienced or not, you’re going to be a terrific mother. You’re kind, funny, and a little crazy. This kid will be lucky to have you, and they are going to adore you.”</p><p>The graphic designer let out a wet laugh at the mention of her craziness, and the sound made Lexa smile. Never in her wildest dreams would she have expected to be the one to comfort Clarke one day. Considering how their relationship at work had been, she would have considered the blonde agreeing not to slit her throat in her sleep a victory. And yet, here they were. In a tender embrace that warmed the brunette’s core and made her walls melt like butter under the sun. She had known, from the very beginning, that Clarke was dangerous. That if she gave in and let her in, the rash and fierce artist would invade all her thoughts and take root inside the traitorous organ beating in her chest. But it was too late now. Fate and strange circumstances had pushed them together, and for the first time, Lexa wasn’t so worried about being weak. All she could hope for was that Clarke would have mercy on her fragile and worn heart.</p><p>“Besides, don’t forget that you won’t be alone. I’m here, and I will help you take care of the baby. I have babysat my nephew several times, so we should be fine. And God knows, someone will have to teach them to be punctual and spell properly when the time comes.”</p><p>“You ass,” Clarke playfully pinched her side, making the brunette squeal. “My spelling is not that bad. Just because I don’t bother much in the company’s group chat doesn’t mean that I don’t know how to write properly when I have to.”</p><p>The two women tickled each other for a few minutes, all the stress and heaviness of the previous conversation forgotten. The blonde ended up lying on her back, face all red from laughing, forced to say uncle so Lexa would remove her fingers from her sides and ribs that quivered in rhythm with her erratic breathing. The brunette lay next to her, on her side, viridian eyes staring at the round face’s profile, the small macaque curled on her flank.</p><p>“So, you have a nephew? I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned him before.”</p><p>“His name is Aden. He is six years old now and without contest the most amazing little man on this planet.”</p><p>“Whoa, someone found favor with the Commander? Color me impressed,” Clarke said with a playful glint in her eyes. She had turned her head around to look back at Lexa, and the tender smile the brunette wore while talking about Aden was mirrored on her face.</p><p>“Yeah. I love him to death. My sister and her wife adopted him when he was one year old. They came home one morning with this small quiet bundle of a blanket, and our lives were never the same. He was so tiny for his age, and not moving much, but his big blue eyes were bright and taking it all in. He did not speak until he was a year and a half, but you could see how intelligent he was even then. Raven, that’s my sister’s wife, is an engineer. She kept building him toys and tools to stimulate him, it was the cutest thing to see them play together on the floor.”</p><p>“He does sound adorable. Are you close to your sister?”</p><p>“Very. We didn’t use to be before. A five-year age difference can be hard to navigate as kids. Then our parents died in a car accident when I was a teenager. She was barely an adult herself, but she thought tooth and nail to become my guardian. I was just a ball of anger and sadness back then, I took it out on her many times, but she never gave up. She refused to let me go into the system, and she managed to raise me while attending university. I wouldn’t be half the person I am now if it weren’t for her.”</p><p>Lexa didn’t share her story very often, but her past was not a secret among her friends either. After almost 15 years, the pain of losing her parents was still very real, though the wound had scarred, thanks to Anya and the passing of time. Her voice quivered as she spoke, but no tears fell down. To her surprise though, Clarke took her hand and squeezed it gently, a silent offer of comfort and a show of empathy.</p><p>“She sounds amazing. I hope I can meet her one day.”</p><p>“She is. I didn’t realize it at first, but she saved me. Raven spent some of her teenage years in the system, and though she was lucky to be eventually adopted by a lovely man named Sinclair, some of the stories she told me were wrenching. That’s why it was so important for her and for Anya to adopt. They could have used a sperm donor and carried a child, but they wanted to give someone the same chance Raven and I were given.”</p><p>“I understand,” the blonde replied, seemingly lost in thoughts. She did not let go of Lexa’s hand, as if to anchor herself. “My father died when I was in high school. Sudden cardiac arrest. I think my mom blamed herself because she is a doctor and didn’t see it coming. She retreated into her work to cope, and our relationship was strained for years after that. I can’t imagine how I would have dealt with the grief and the anger I felt toward her if not for my friends. We were a very tight group, still are, and they were the ones who saved me. They stopped me from doing crazy shit, pushed me to go to school, made sure I took care of myself… Though my mom and I found our way back to each other eventually, they are my family now too.”</p><p>The silence stretched between the two survivors, each dealing with the emotions brought up by the conversation. It was not awkward or uncomfortable, though. The realization that they shared some trauma was bringing them closer.</p><p>Not for the first time, Lexa wondered how things could have been if she had not been so aloof toward Clarke at work. Would they have become friends? Or more? Luckily for her, she was being given a second chance, and she had every intention not to waste it. Before she could begin to articulate how she felt, however, something warm seeped through her shirt.</p><p>“Clarke?” she let out a deep sigh and groaned. “I think your monkey just peed on me.”</p><p>“<em>Our</em> monkey, Lex. <em>Our</em> monkey. Maybe that means he likes you?”  </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The picture comes from:<br/>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AQwWOSe7zBQ</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For the fifth time, Lexa took a deep breath and dived into the crystalline water. Her harpoon in one hand and goggles firmly tightened around her head, she swam above the coral reefs near the island searching for shellfish. After four months stuck in Palawan, she had gotten pretty good at it. Enough that if she grew tired of account managing, she could consider a career change to fishing. She could hold her breath for almost two minutes, and thanks to the snorkeling equipment found on the yacht, she rarely came back empty-handed. On top of the <em>bangus</em> and other local fish she could catch, their meals consisted of oysters, clams, mussels, and even some crabs and lobsters thanks to the small net Clarke had designed.</p><p>
  
</p><p>The blonde was a much more confident swimmer than before. She didn’t often accompany Lexa on her diving trips, not wanting to go too deep still, but she had no more qualms swimming in the pond or even in the ocean. The two women spent countless hours floating around and engaging in playful water fights, although they had to be mindful of Clarke’s condition.</p><p>At over 5 months pregnant, the recently-turned 30-year-old was sporting a very visible bump that thankfully was not getting in the way yet. Her mood swings still surprised Lexa from time to time, not to mention her weird cravings that required a lot of compromising and some creativity from the brunette, but the newfound energy was welcome. And above all, there were the baby kicks.</p><p>The first time that phenomenon happened, Clarke was playing with Marcel the macaque. The flutter in her stomach was so brief that she attributed it to the monkey holding onto her bra — it was definitely a male.</p><p>The second time, however, she was lying on her side, no animal in sight, napping to escape the early afternoon heat. The strange sensation, not unlike what a tiny fish swimming in her stomach might feel, made her open her mouth in surprise and bring her hand to her belly. It was, of course, too soon to feel it from the outside, but that didn’t stop the tears of joy that rolled down her cheeks.</p><p>Lexa was miffed at first that the baby refused to move a single toe while she was around. She even went as far as to say that they had clearly inherited their mother’s stubbornness, making the blonde chuckle and roll her eyes at the pouting brunette. But Clarke also woke up more than once to Lexa discreetly placing her hand on her stomach or whispering to the fetus, and the darkness was not always enough to hide the smile breaking upon her face. And the day the baby finally got over their shyness and kicked hard enough for the 27-year-old to feel it, the look of awe in her viridian eyes was worth all the money in the world and then some to the blonde.</p><p>Reminiscing that particular day with a small smile, Lexa got out of the water. She carefully placed the fruits of her underwater expedition near the hut — Clarke would prepare them later — petted a sleeping Marcel, and made her way to the pond to rinse herself. The walk was short, one of the main advantages of the beach they had settled on, and she arrived less than 10 minutes later. Lost in thoughts, the brunette walked into the clearing without paying attention to her surroundings. The moan that came from the area in front of her, however, made her stop dead in her tracks.</p><p>Her eyes wide with surprise, she took in the sight that had welcomed her. Clarke was lying on a flat stone, feet and lower legs in the water. Her top was nowhere to be seen — not that Lexa could really focus on anything other than the two pale globes adorned with pink nipples standing at attention — and her left hand was disappearing into her loose pants, the circling movements leaving no doubt as to what she was doing.</p><p>“Lexaaa!” the blonde squealed when she noticed her companion, and the cry tore the account manager out of her daze.</p><p>“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” the brunette shouted as she spun around and nearly face-planted into the closest tree. “I didn’t see anything! I mean… I didn’t see much. I promise. I—”   </p><p>“Lexa, please shut up. I’m embarrassed enough as it is, let’s not make a big deal out of it, OK? We are two grown women, it happens. I thought you would be gone longer, and those damn hormones are driving me crazy. Next time I’ll find a spot less exposed.”</p><p>The 27-year-old swallowed thickly at the thought of a “next time” and berated herself for her reaction. There was nothing wrong with some self-love, they were adults after all. She had certainly indulged in some while pretending to look after the goats or trek around the island. Making Clarke feel worse than she already was would be useless and unkind. With a stiff nod, she retreated to the beach. She would have to rinse herself with some of the water they had collected before, which was cumbersome, but she couldn’t look at the blonde yet.</p><p>A few hours later, the two women were lying on the pelts they used as a mattress, an uncomfortable silence stretching between them. Lexa was trying her best to fall asleep, but she could feel the older woman huffing and turning around every few minutes.</p><p>“Hey, are you OK? You seem jittery.”</p><p>No answer came from the form next to her, and for a minute the brunette thought that Clarke might simply ignore her. To her surprise, a raspy voice answered with a frustrated tone.</p><p>“I can’t sleep. I didn’t get to… hum, finish earlier. I was too embarrassed and distracted. And now my body feels all weird, and tense, and hot.”</p><p>
  <em>Oh.</em>
</p><p>If this was a divine test of sorts, Lexa was going to fail epically, she could feel it.   </p><p>“I—would you like me to leave and give you some privacy?” she croaked, grateful for the darkness that hid her blush.</p><p>“I mean, if you think about it, it is kind of your fault that I’m in this situation in the first place. So, unless you want to give me a hand…”</p><p>The account manager practically swallowed her tongue at the last comment. Clarke had to be joking, right? There was no way she would be interested in her like that? And yet, she had noticed how the blonde looked at her sometimes in the previous weeks, with a mixture of tenderness and what resembled desire. Especially when Lexa was exiting the pond, drops of water streaking down her body and muscles shivering with the temperature difference. Maybe this was her chance, the one she had been waiting for far too long.</p><p>With more bravery than she thought herself capable, the brunette rolled to her side, her body inches away from Clarke’s. The older woman let out a sharp breath in surprise, but she didn’t shy away, and Lexa counted it as a victory.</p><p>“My parents and then Anya taught me the importance of accountability. If I caused you any discomfort, I should help you deal with the fallout.”</p><p>“Only you would phrase it like that,” the blonde replied, her eye roll almost audible, but so was her smirk. With a soft but firm hand, she grabbed the 27-year-old arm and pulled her until Lexa was hovering over her, mindful to keep her weight off the bulging stomach.</p><p>“I should tell you something first,” the brunette whispered, trying her best not to get lost in the eyes under her that looked cobalt blue in the obscurity. “I had a crush on you when you joined Arkadia. I wanted to ask you out, but then you introduced your boyfriend to the department during the Christmas party, and I assumed you were straight.”</p><p>“Wait, that’s why you gave me the cold shoulder for so long?”</p><p>Lexa nodded softly. She could feel her ears redden and prayed that Clarke wouldn’t reject her now that she knew the extent of her feelings. Keeping her distance with the blonde at work had been difficult, but so soon after the breakup with Costia, her instinct of self-preservation had kicked in. She had never meant to be a jerk toward the artist, only to avoid getting hurt.</p><p>“We are definitely going to talk about it tomorrow,” the blonde said after a pregnant pause — pun intended. “But right now, there are other things I would rather do if you are still up for it.”</p><p>A hand lost itself in chestnut locks, and Lexa almost felt like purring at the sensation. It had been so long since someone had touched her. Since her ex, she had briefly dated a couple of women and slept with one. But it had been short-lived, and not that memorable. She hoped she would last a little longer than a teenage boy if Clarke touched her down there. The hand massaging her scalp lowered itself until it was cupping the nape of her neck, pulling her closer.</p><p>“Can I kiss you?” the brunette hesitated, her lips hovering an inch or so above Clarke’s, their breaths mingling as she tried not to look at the two pink pillows that she had been dreaming of for way too long.</p><p>“Who am I, <em>Pretty Woman</em>? Of course, you can. I wish you would.”</p><p>Not wanting to waste another second, Lexa closed the distance between them and claimed the blonde’s lips. The kiss was chaste at first, their mouths gently moving in synchrony and discovering each other. But soon, the tension that had been present all evening between them — not to mention the months of sexual attraction before that — flared. Clarke nipped at her bottom lip before swiping it with her tongue, and Lexa felt it all the way into her lower belly. The moan that escaped her disconnected their mouths for a second. The brunette leaned back immediately and swallowed the grin on the older woman’s face. She tilted her head more and parted her lips willingly when Clarke kissed her intensely, exploring the sweet depths of her mouth with urgency and passion.</p><p>The kisses grew messier as their hands began to roam over the exposed skin. Lexa was the first to discard her top, cursing and rolling her hips when the blonde tweaked her pert nipples. She sneaked a hand behind Clarke’s back to unclasp her bra and had to stop for a moment to admire the spectacular boobs underneath her.</p><p>“Careful, they are very sensitive now.”</p><p>The account manager nodded distractedly and lowered her face until her lips closed around a pink bud, eliciting a whine from the woman underneath her. Mindful not to suck or pinch too hard, she spent delicious minutes playing with the two mounds, kneading them, licking all the skin available.</p><p>“Lex, please, touch me,” the other woman eventually begged, too hot and bothered to care anymore. She had been waiting for this for hours, days, months really. She would be damned if she had to show any more patience when the brunette was finally above her, doing wicked things with her tongue, and it wasn’t a dream.</p><p>Lexa took pity on her and her hand trailed from her delectable chest down her side and into her ruined panties. She hooked a thumb under the waistband and lowered the garment slowly, admiring the view revealed to her. The long fingers skated up a trembling shin and thigh all the way to the apex of Clarke’s legs, making the blonde buck against her.</p><p>“What do you like?” the brunette whispered in her ear.</p><p>“Everything, anything. Just touch me, please. Make me come.”</p><p>The 27-year-old kissed her with desperate need before moving her mouth lower and nipping at the offered taut throat. Her fingers explored the glistening folds, separating them, dipping slightly to gather more wetness, and spread it on the hardened nub she could feel shake against the pulp of her index. She was rewarded with a soft moan that made her sex clench and she subconsciously started rocking against the blonde’s thigh, looking for more friction.</p><p>Clarke mewled when the brunette pushed two fingers in, stopping to give her time to adjust. Her hips canted in pace with the slow, deep thrusts, and the brunette had to force herself to focus on what she was doing so she wouldn’t come too soon with how sexy the blonde was. Her lips were parted, her breathing loud and interrupted with whimpers, her beautiful eyes shut.</p><p>Lexa lowered her mouth once more and placed it on a pert nipple. The moves of her tongue were mirroring the ones of her thumb against the bundle of nerves down there. When she curled her fingers inside, a flicker of tongue and a brush of her thumb were enough to send her lover tumble over the edge with a deep cry that echoed around the beach. Clarke shook from the waves of her climax, her back arched over the ground, and the brunette helped her through it by pumping as much as she could with the walls clenched around her.</p><p>“Fuck, that was amazing. So much better than my own hand,” the blonde panted once her body had relaxed.</p><p>“I aim to please,” Lexa smirked, her head resting against Clarke’s chest.</p><p>“I knew you were a service top.”</p><p>Before the account manager could refute the statement and try to claim that she was very much a full-fledged top, the blonde grabbed her by the neck and crashed their lips together. With her stomach in the way, Clarke was not so comfortable on top or lying between Lexa’s legs. That didn’t prevent her, however, from making the brunette come once with her fingers and then once more with her tongue, Lexa riding her face and howling her pleasure into the night.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Bangus = milkfish, the most popular fish in the Philippines</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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